


Exhale

by blinking_post



Category: Block B, Winner (Band)
Genre: Communication Failure, Emotionally Constipated Minyoon, Getting Together, Good Friend P.O., Good Hyung Jinwoo, Got his shit together Zico, M/M, Multi, Non-Linear Narrative
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-13
Updated: 2018-12-13
Packaged: 2019-09-17 08:42:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,134
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16971405
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/blinking_post/pseuds/blinking_post
Summary: Seungyoon says to him: I’m not sorry.





	Exhale

**Author's Note:**

> Special thinks to [Holly for being a great cheerleader and always encouraging me to keep going ^_^](http://archiveofourown.org/users/alchemicink/pseuds/alchemicink)

\---- After ----

Seungyoon says to him: I’m not sorry 1 .

 

Hair rumpled, tangled by someone else’s fingers, the curve of his back would be beautiful except for the way it warns Mino off.  Don’t touch me, it says, and so Mino’s desire twists in his gut, grows.

 

Shoulders hunched forward, chin down, elbows and arms on knees as the nail of one thumb runs along the nail of the other.  A tick. He won’t look at Mino when he says, “I’m not sorry,” far off. Away. Distant. Defensive and gearing up for a fight.

 

He chases after.  Can’t resist the urge.  He wants so much, misses Seungyoon so much.  The ends of his fingertips brush skin, run along the bumps of Seungyoon’s spine.  He feels the shiver, hears the sigh.

 

Seungyoon twists and looks at him, anguished, fighting an internal battle.

 

“I hate you sometimes.”

 

“You don’t.”

 

He curls his whole body around Seungyoon then, kisses Seungyoon’s stomach.  It flutters.

 

“I want to,” he relents.  “So much.”

 

“I know.”

 

He pulls and Seungyoon gives.  Mouths clash, and Seungyoon makes it quick and dirty, rough, angry, tongue and teeth everywhere, nipping and biting and he tries to slow them both down with a cool hand against Seungyoon’s chest.  He maneuvers up, sits astride Seungyoon’s hips and can finally take control. He breaks away, pushes Seungyoon’s hair back with a set of fingers, palm on his forehead, so he can look into Seungyoon’s eyes.  They both pause, each searching, and something conflicted flicks across Seungyoon’s face. Quick as it surfaced it was hidden again. Seungyoon feels vulnerable now, radiates it in the way his whole body is tense, like he’s waiting for the fall out.  It doesn’t come. It won’t come. Mino angles them, tilts Seungyoon’s head back and even though his eyes turn to slit they never break away from Mino’s.

 

When he kisses Seungyoon it’s soft, tender.

 

\---- Before ----

 

Jiho says to him: he's not yours.

 

He plops down onto Jiho’s bed headfirst.  A deep inhale brings the familiar scent of Jiho’s body and already he thrums inside from anticipation, arousal.  He opens his eyes and they turn to slits when they catch the sight of Seungyoon’s jacket -- the bomber one; red, the one that makes Mino want to kneel and worship him.  It’s been draped carefully onto the back of Jiho’s chair.

 

He rolls onto his back.

 

“Hyung,” he says, whining.  “Come here.”

 

_Indulge me_ , his tone says.

 

Jiho makes a noise as if to say Mino is always asking him for too much but they both know it’s a lie.  Jiho hovers over him, palms pressed into the bed on either side of his shoulder, eyes so bright and indulgent they almost twinkle.

 

“What is it, my precious dongsaeng?”

 

He stretches up and fuses them together.  Jiho opens up from habit and want and Mino dives right in without hesitation.  Mino goes hard, unrelenting, like he’s on a mission but Jiho takes control, pushes Mino back onto the bed and slows them both down.

 

He doesn’t want quick and dirty, not today.  Today he wants slow, wants it to last. He wants to be tender, and he wants to say to Mino, “I really love you,” without saying a word at all.

 

“You taste like Seungyoon,” Mino says to him after.

 

“You fucking liar,” he shoots back.  “You can’t taste that shit.”

 

Mino shrugs but won’t give another inch.  Instead he pointedly looks over Jiho’s shoulder and tries for nonchalant but Jiho knows him better than to take him at face value.  It’s quiet the room now sharp. He wants to ask, desperately so, but he doesn’t really want to know either.

 

Jiho reaches out, sinks his fingers into Mino’s hair and ruffles it the exact same way he does every time he thinks Mino is acting childish.  Just when the defiance in his chest starts to burn and he’s about to knock Jiho away, tell him to quit it, Jiho gentles his hand, slips down and curls against the nape of his neck, fingers hot.

 

“Seungyoon’s a catch,” Jiho says, not unkindly.  “He’s not gonna wait around for you. I think I’ll snatch him away.”

 

The anger returns and maybe it  **_is_ ** childish but he can’t control it, doesn’t care to because Seungyoon—

 

See, Seungyoon is—

 

“He’s not yours,” Jiho says, reading him, knows him too well.  “You don’t want him so he’s not yours.”

 

“When did I say I don’t want him?”

 

Counter:  When did you say you do?

 

“You’re being mean,” he says, hint of a whine in his voice.  He knows how he looks – crestfallen, hurt and betrayed – and plays it up a bit more.

 

Jiho cracks a smile, mumbles  _manipulative_ against Mino’s lips before kissing him.

 

\---- After ----

 

Jihoon says to him: you are some kind of bastard, my friend.

 

Not unkindly.  Understanding, if anything.  A little sad for him too. More than he deserves right now.  One long arm drapes freely around Mino’s shoulder to offer comfort, heads touching at the temple, the slight sheen of sweat ignored.

 

They’ve had too much to drink, and he’s made an ass out of himself.  He’s petty, and selfish, and jealous, and sometimes he can’t help himself, doesn’t know when or how to stop.

 

Seungyoon is upset.

 

Jiho is outright mad at him.

 

Neither will talk to him and he doesn’t know how to handle it.  It’s never been like this before. Seungyoon never walks away. Not once.  Not ever. No matter how upset they are with each other, no matter how much he’s hurt Seungyoon.  And Jiho… this is a first.

 

His chest tightens, his gut wrenches.   _ It’s just the alcohol, _ he tells himself.  Can’t believe his own lie either.  The bile rides up and up and the world spins and spins and spins.  He can’t--

 

He can’t-- 

 

“Pull over,” he chokes out to their cabbie.  Nothing. He’s too fucked up, can’t say it loud enough.  “Jihoon,” he says next, warning.

 

His friend helps him the few steps he needs beyond the door, then he drops and lands with a thud on his knees.

 

Vomit spews out before he had even fully landed, and the accompanying pain doesn’t register at all.  All he can feel is his stomach clenched, muscles coiled so tight it hurts. Even when there’s nothing left he’s still going, can’t stop dry heaving and dry heaving and dry heaving.  Tears prickle the corner of his eyes. He squeezes them shut but it’s useless. The tears slip through.

 

He’s nothing more than a pathetic mess on his hands and knees, fucked up and tearing in front of his own vomit.

 

Jihoon, his best friend, is better than he deserves.  He squats down next to Mino, drags Mino back and grounds him with a sobering, cold hand to the back of his neck.

 

He can breathe again, even if only a little, but it’s enough to get by.

 

\---- Before ----

 

Seungyoon says to Jiho: I like you.

 

It’s easy with Jiho the way he can’t remember it being with Mino anymore.  It’s complicated. For him. For Jiho. For Mino especially. Everything is screwed a million ways sideways.

 

But it’s easy here, just the two of them.

 

He can breathe here.

 

So he drapes his jacket across the back of Jiho’s chair and he lies on Jiho’s bed and he scrolls through the comments on his phone.  Some bad but mostly good now. He’s learning how to not let the hate drag him down anymore. Jiho sits at his desk, toils away at his laptop, his phone, switching back and forth when he needs to check something.  They hardly speak but it’s comfortable. Safe. He can get used to this, he thinks, but doesn’t know how long they can keep doing this peacefully.

 

Again, it’s complicated.  Because of Mino. Because they’re both  _ in _ love with him and they’re both aware, know about the other even if they haven’t said it out loud.  They don’t talk about it and maybe that’s what’s making it complicated. Maybe Jiho knows what Mino wants from him, maybe he’s happy with whatever they have.  But Seungyoon, he has no fucking clue, doesn’t know where he stands, doesn’t know if Mino cares about him beyond something more than a lay and Mino isn’t saying much and that’s okay.  It’s not the end of the world.

 

Between him and Jiho if there had been any awkwardness it has all melted away.  There’s no one else in the world who understands how he feels but Jiho and maybe that’s what lulled them to where they are now.

 

He likes it here, in Jiho’s room, in his bed.  Surrounded by his presence. He likes how they can sit and do nothing and it’s still time well-spent.  He likes how Jiho’s grin gets wider when he’s too tired, perfect white teeth gleaming. He likes how kind, how affectionate and caring Jiho is, the touching and the hugging and the big, warm hands on his shoulders, fingertips kneading away knots in his shoulders.  He likes how Jiho looks at him sometimes and he just gets that Seungyoon doesn’t want to talk about it -- whatever  _ it _ is -- and that maybe sometimes he wants someone to dote on him too, to take care of him.

 

He likes Jiho so much sometimes he feels like his chest might burst with excitement, with possibilities.  He grew into this,  _ they _ grew into this, and now he wants to keep it, thinks that he will.  He wants to be selfish too.

 

The clacking of Jiho’s keyboard stops, Jiho’s quick mind pausing for a minute to process.  He says it then, doesn’t really think too hard on it.

 

Casually, not even looking up from his phone, “Hyung, I like you.”

 

Jiho doesn’t stop either, doesn’t turn around to face Seungyoon with shocked wide eyes or an open mouth or any other gestures.  He makes a noncommittal noise and a delayed moment later says to Seungyoon, “Mino doesn’t share his people well.”

 

In the same casual - it’s not actually that big of a deal -- tone, he says, “I know.”  And also, because he can’t resist teasing, “You raised him that way.”

 

Jiho tosses his head back a little and groans.  “Ugh, I know,” he says but there’s no malice, no annoyance, only affection and Seungyoon knows damn well enough that’s the effect Mino has on people.  He sneaks his way in, worms into your very being until you want to give him everything he wants.

 

He sets his phone down, waits patiently, slow burn anticipate, nerves in his stomach betraying a cool exterior.  Jiho finishes his thoughts first before he closes his laptop. He swivels to face Seungyoon, not too fast, not too slow.  There’s a pause in the room, and then Jiho moves first.

 

\---- After ----

 

Seungyoon says to him: you only want me when I’m not there 1, and it feels like a punch to the gut.  Said with so much resignation it feels true, like it’s been written in stone millennia ago.

 

It’s not true.

 

It’s not true at all.

 

He wants to say that.

 

He wants to tell Seungyoon he’s sorry.

 

He’s sorry he pushed them to this point.

 

He’s sorry he’s so dumb.

 

He’s sorry for every awful, terrible thing he’d said -- you’re only there to fill the time -- when he had seen the two of them together, alone, without him, finally saw how at ease they were, how they laughed and shined, and how intimate and familiar they were with each other, how they fit and how  _ they didn’t need him at all. _  That felt  felt like a slap to the face.  They wouldn’t even know each other if it wasn’t for him and so he lashed back, aimed to cut both of them bone deep.

 

And yeah, maybe he’d been a bit too tipsy but that’s not an excuse that will fly with Seungyoon.  Jiho, probably, because he knows all the worst sides to Mino and still loves him, still wants him because of it, and he doesn’t care how or why as long as Mino apologizes.  Even if it  _ is _ half-assed.  But not Seungyoon.  The Seungyoon who’s in love with him is kind and sweet and gets hurt so easily, hides it just as quickly, burying it under silence and distance and a smile so sharp it cuts.

 

He chooses his words carefully and they’re always perfect 2, and he doesn’t let Mino get away with his bullshit.  Not like Jiho who, deep down, still carries guilt over how their past played out so that he lets Mino get away with more than he should.

 

He’s not good at this part – never been the one to apologize first when he’s in the wrong.  It’s not that he doesn’t want to. He doesn’t know how. It’s hard to open his mouth and actually apologize, to put himself out there, to be open and vulnerable and not know if Seungyoon will forgive him.  So he sits, and he sits, and he keeps his mouth shut. Seungyoon waits, and he waits, and the sad thing is he probably doesn’t expect anything from Mino now. He waits, and when he’s done he gets up and he walks away, so quiet it’s like he wasn’t even there.

 

He slumps pathetically down into the cushions of the sofa and curls around Thor who snuggles into him.

 

“I’m sorry,” he says into the room but there’s no one there to hear him.

 

\---- After ----

 

Mino says to him: Hyung, you’ve never been just something.

 

Jiho opens the door for him and the downtick curve of Jiho’s mouth tells him he’s no longer angry.  His eyes project hurt though, and his whole demeanor is sad. He doesn’t know if that makes it easier or harder.

 

He steps aside and lets Mino in, careful so they don’t touch.  He doesn’t say a word and he doesn’t wait for Mino to toe off his shoes after the door closes.  He leaves Mino behind and heads back into his apartment.

 

Harder, he concludes, following behind Jiho like a lost puppy.  Jiho needs something to do, something to distract himself with so he doesn’t have to look at Mino, and it stings a little but he brought himself here with no one else to blame.  No one else he  _ can _ blame.

 

At the edge of the kitchen he watches Jiho reach into a cabinet for a glass, turns on the sink, and waits for the water to get cold before he fills his glass half full.  Fingers more delicate than they ought to be wrap around the glass and he keeps it close to his chest when he finally turns around to face Mino. Decision made subconsciously or not it’s still a barrier between the two of them, just like the distance and he wants nothing more than to destroy it.

 

He tries a few times, manages to open his mouth once to say he’s sorry but the words refuse to come out, crippled by the fear that Jiho won’t forgive him this time, that maybe like Seungyoon he crossed a line he might not be able to come back from.  Again, he thinks.  _ Again. _  It’s too much.  He breaks away, stares at the ground, and wants to cry.

 

Jiho quietly asks him, “Am I really just something?”

 

A lifeline because Jiho is kind.  He grabs it, refuses to let go. He moves in cautiously -- doesn’t want to scare Jiho off – until the glass of water is gone, set aside, and he’s in Jiho’s space again, until the distance between them has disappeared, and, voice low, he finally gives part of himself away.  He tells Jiho, “Hyung, you’ve never been just something.”

 

Jiho fully slumps into him then, hooks his chin over Mino’s shoulder, silently wanting to be held, wanting to be touched and comforted.

 

“You’re too mean sometimes, Song Minho,” he says, and though Mino can’t see his face he knows Jiho is pouting, sulking a little, asking for Mino to take care of him.

 

He wraps both arms around Jiho and keeps them together, smiles into the curve where Jiho's neck meets his shoulder, breathing in deep to take him in. 

 

“I know, hyung,” and then finally, maybe because it’s easier now that he’s forgiven, “I’m sorry.”

 

\---- After ----

 

Jinwoo says to him: keep trying.

 

He barely bats an eye when Mino snuggles up to him while he’s in one of his drama watching sessions, his head resting atop one of Jinwoo’s thigh.  Mino makes a whining noise, tired from a long day’s work (and Seungyoon but he’s not going to ask, doesn’t want to get involve), and he indulges in Mino’s need for touch by absently running one of his hands through Mino’s blond hair after he settles in.

 

It’s one of those rare moments Mino actually stays still for longer than five seconds and they make a good go of it.  It’s clear to him Mino is trying to distract himself, trying to immerse himself in the story on screen even though he’s already missed more than half of it, and by the look on his face every time Jinwoo sneaks a glance at him he’s not succeeding.

 

When the story onscreen progresses to a natural lull, Mino says to him, “Jinwoo-hyung, Seungyoon dyed his hair blue.”

 

He can’t keep the grin off his face.  This kid, really. “He must be over you then,” he quips back jokingly.  He expects indignant, denial, but Mino’s face falls like he’s hearing one of his fears confirmed.

 

“I think so too,” he says sadly, and it’s pathetic enough he feels a tug or two at his heartstrings.

 

“Don’t worry,” he reassures.  “Dyeing hair is nothing. You just dyed your hair too.  It’s only when they cut their hair that you have to worry.”

 

Mino’s frown deepens and he looks even sadder than before.  Quietly, he tells Jinwoo, “I overheard stylist-nuna earlier today.  She says Seungyoon is thinking of changing his hair style.”

 

A laugh bursts out before he can stop it.  “What is Seungyoon gonna do? It’s over for us if he shows his forehead.”

 

This time Mino’s eyes narrow.  “Seungyoon has a nice forehead,” he says defensively.  “He looks good no matter what.”

 

Amused, he shoots back, “You think that because you’re in love with him.”

 

He hits a nerve and they’re back to sullen again.  Mino says nothing but there’s a war of emotions on his face and in his eyes, but Jinwoo doesn’t push.

 

Mino furrows back into him and he pets Mino’s hair again, says to him as cheerfully, as wholeheartedly as he can, “Everything will be okay,” and adds on after a second’s pause, “you’re the one person Seungyoon can never get over.  If you keep trying Seungyoon will forgive you.”

 

That seems to appease Mino for the time being; finally finding enough peace to nod off with his head still in Jinwoo’s lap and Jinwoo’s fingers raking through his hair.

 

\---- Before ----

 

Seungyoon says to him: I don’t know who I am and he looks so lost.

 

Mino says to him in reply: that’s okay; let’s find you together and shares what he has -- cameras, photography -- because there’s an ache that nestles right on top of his chest whenever he sees Seungyoon sad.

 

So he hands Seungyoon a camera, takes the other hand with his, and they walk together, exploring the streets through their lenses.  The sun sets behind Seungyoon, creates a beautiful silhouette. By the time he has his camera pointed at Seungyoon one is staring back at him.

 

After, in a cramped restaurant, over two bowls of noodles, knees touching underneath the table, Seungyoon grins at him and says, “Thank you.”  There’s a warmth that glows in his eyes and blooms in Mino’s own chest because Seungyoon doesn’t look so lost anymore.

 

\---- Before ----

 

Jiho squeezes him tight and says to him with all the conviction he has, “You’re going to do well no matter what.  Just wait a little while longer,” and he breaks. It’s 2013 and he has to start all over again. He’d worked so hard, given it everything he had, soul and all, but it wasn’t enough.  He has to start all over again.

 

He sobs into Jiho’s shoulder, can’t help it, cries so hard he can’t breathe, feels like throwing up but Jiho never lets go.

 

\---- Before ----

 

He’s still trying to figure out how to apologize to Jiho, how to express how thankful he is that Jiho chose him time and time again even when it was probably easier to let him go, less frustrating at least.  Even now when there are still prejudices against him. He wants to say  _ thank you, it means a lot to me that you’re standing by me even when that means losing. _

 

Before he can find the words the dressing room clears and it’s just the two of them, backs against the vinyl, neither looking at the other, thighs pressed together, warm and heat radiating from each other, combining.

 

“Winning this isn’t important,” he says to Mino quietly, voice low.  “I think you’re more than good enough to win and all those other rappers out there saying, ‘Song Minho, Song Minho,’ need to shut the fuck up, do their own thing and stop riding your coattails.  Yeah, I want to win so I can shove it in everyone’s face but it’s not that important to me. We were together for so long and you’re so precious to me but we never got to stand together on stage even once.  That’s what matters to me. Winning, not winning, doesn’t matter at all.”

 

And wow.  Just… wow.  He’s floored, left speechless.  Hadn’t expected that at all. He glances up, looks into the mirror in front of them and catches the serious look on Jiho’s face -- total concentration, eyes downward but hard -- like letting Mino know winning doesn’t matter is just as important as finally performing on a stage together.

 

Suddenly he’s fifteen, sixteen again, just an impressionable boy with more than a crush on the hyung who loved him and cared for him, who listened and protected, and never treated him like a child.  Suddenly he’s fifteen, sixteen again, burying his feelings under a pile of denial and  _ we’re just really close friends, _ and later  _ I don’t stand a chance, _ and even after that,  _ we’re going our own separate ways anyway. _

 

“Thank you, hyung,” he says, low so that even if there were other people in the room only Jiho would hear.

 

And then he remembers he’s not sixteen anymore and sometimes when Jiho looks at him it’s like there’s something more there.  He leans further back, relaxes, suddenly at ease. He rests his cheek on Jiho’s shoulder and stares at their reflection, takes it in.

 

“We look good together,” he says.

 

Jiho tips his gaze up, looks at them too, smiles affectionately, confirms it.

 

“We should go together.”

 

\---- Before ----

 

It’s just the two of them in the van waiting for their manager to come back and take them home after they finished filming for Mino’s teaser.  He scrolls through his phone with Mino leaning against him for support, still a bit tipsy from all the wine, the tips of his blond hair scratching against the side of Seungyoon’s neck.

 

“You okay?” he asks against the top of Mino’s head.  Mino nods against him, tired, doesn’t move away. Off-handedly he says “When I asked Alexa how it went she said, ‘Such a good kisser.’”

 

Mino smiles into his shoulder, and he can feel Mino’s pride seeping through in spades.  “Wanna try?” he says, teasing, challenging.

 

They’ve been doing this, playing a game of chicken, seeing who will back off first.  More often than not it’s him, and it’s getting more than a little tiring. Mino keeps pushing, won’t back off, and he doesn’t know why, doesn’t understand why they keep doing it, especially after Mino and Jiho… after they started whatever they’d started the previous summer.  It had hurt a little, yeah, because he thought the both of them had been building to something more than what they had but it’s okay, he’d expected and didn’t say anything and that’s on him.

 

But here, now, he’s worn thin and he won’t back down anymore, unwilling, hates losing, especially to Mino fo all people.  “Sure,” he says, accepting, knows it won’t go any further because of Jiho.

 

Mino peers up at him through long, black lashes, eyes slightly glazed, and then a crooked smile, a hint of teeth before it’s gone, dissipating into Seungyoon’s mouth.  The dry, earthy taste of red wine lingers in Mino’s mouth and he can’t get enough of it, wants more. Delves deeper. When he pulls back to breathe Mino follows him, doesn’t hesitate in fusing their mouths back together again.  Seungyoon opens, Mino sighs into him, content, and a burst of joy, pride erupts in his chest.

 

\---- After ----

 

Jiho says to him while they’re in the middle of eating dinner -- takeout containers spread out in front of them -- “Listen to his songs.”  When Seungyoon doesn’t say anything, only looks at him in confusion, he continues. “Mino is bad at verbally expressing anything remotely important.  He’s not going to tell you what you want to hear. He’ll put everything he wants to say in his songs and show it to the world but he’ll never say them to you.  So, if you want to know what he’s thinking, listen to his songs.”

 

“You think so?” he asks, unsure.  What if Mino’s songs tell him answers he doesn’t want?  Or worse, what if Mino flat out says no?

 

“He’s working on his album now, right?”

 

“Off and on,” he answers slowly then adds, “mostly on nowadays.”

 

“Yeah, I’m sure.”  Jiho leans over, plants a quick kiss on Seungyoon’s mouth.  “It’s less complicated than you think.”

 

\---- After ----

 

Mino says to Seungyoon: I do, you know?

 

The song has played through, finished what felt like ages ago.  In the cramped space of Mino’s studio, he can’t stop looking at Mino, can’t stop staring in awe and shock even if Mino won’t look at him.  With his nerves and fear so visible in the silence and the soft, dim glow of his computer screen how could he not see? He reaches out first -- the first time since their fight -- and twines one of his hands with Mino’s and lets it hang between them, won’t let go, wants to keep touching because it hasn’t felt like this in so long.

 

“Am I the blue bird?” he asks quietly.

 

A pause.  He holds his breath; exhales when Mino nods, one slow dip of his head.

 

“It’s the blue hair, right?”  His joke falls flat, increases the awkwardness in the room.  He pushes forward. “Jiho-hyung?”

 

“Him too,” he says, shrinking into himself with the admission.  “But you’re not any less,” he choked out quickly. “You and Jiho-hyung, you’re the same to me.  Seungyoon you-” he breaks what little eye contact they’d formed. “You’re more than just something to me.”

 

His chest loosens, feels relaxed and easy around Mino again.  It’s been too long, hadn’t known how on edge he’d been until now.

 

“I wasn’t sure,” he confides.  “After, you know…” he trails off, can’t say it.  “After, you never got mad about me and Jiho-hyung again and we just kept doing what we were doing but… I was never sure, you know?  Is it just me and Jiho-hyung? Are there others? Will I be thrown away? I kept thinking all these thoughts, and I kept expecting you to tell me you didn’t want me anymore, and didn’t want me around Jiho-hyung.  I just… I became so angry inside. But then you kept coming back and dragging me out into the world, and sometimes you looked at me like… like I meant more. I don’t- I don’t know...”   
  
“It’s only you and Jiho-hyung.  I can’t promise but I’m pretty sure there’s never gonna be anyone else,” Mino says to him when it became clear he’d said his piece.  “I’m selfish,” he acknowledges, “but there isn’t any piece of me or anything I have that I wouldn’t share with you. And Jiho-hyung too.  You don’t need my permission to have your own thing. I’ve thought about it and I’ve accepted it. I just… want to be with you. And I want to be with Jiho-hyung too.”

 

“Okay,” he says, letting Mino’s words seep in, letting it warm him from the inside out.  “I really like this. Can I listen to more?” he asks and Mino grins at him, happy. Proud.

 

Later, when he’s almost asleep in his own bed, a finger warmly trailing down his back, Mino whispers, “Kang Seungyoon,” next to his ear.  He groans.

 

“What,” he says.

 

Mino kisses the skin behind his ear.  “I’m sorry I was an asshole.” And then, “I do, you know?”

 

He grins into his pillow.  “What, love me?”

 

Embarrassed, Mino buries his face into the side of Seungyoon's neck and nods.

 

\---- Endgame ----

 

He’s had too much to drink and maybe he should have gone home with Jihoon but right now there’s only really one place he wants to be.  He stumbles into Jiho’s bedroom, shedding his clothes and accessories along the way, littering the hallway and the bedroom floor, and crawls into bed with them -- Jiho in sweats and a t-shirt, Seungyoon in nothing but his boxer-briefs.  He wiggles into the tight space between them, throws one arm around each of their middle, and they groan at him in annoyance.

 

“Go away,” Seungyoon says to him, voice tired and hoarse, so he smacks a hard kiss against Seungyoon’s sternum as revenge.  Another groan before he pushes Mino off and tries to roll away.

 

He turns his attention to Jiho next, nuzzles his nose against Jiho’s back until he finally caves and rolls over to face him.  He cradles the back of Mino’s head in one hand, fingers caught in Mino's hair, eyes still closed.  “Mino-yah,” he breathes out and like Seungyoon he sounds tired and hoarse.  “Some of us like to sleep whenever we can get it.”

 

“Liar,” he starts but the rest of his sentence --  _ you never sleep; you’re always working _ \-- gets muffled into Jiho’s shirt with a swift tug and a mouthful of cotton.

 

He gasps for air when he finally breaks free.  When he bites Jiho shouts in surprise and Seungyoon, having had enough, rolls back to them, flungs an arm over the them both.  “Sleep,” he whines. “Sleep, sleep, sleeeeeeeep.”

 

Mino quiets down and Jiho does too.  “I missed you,” he admits to Jiho, to Seungyoon when his senses dull and he’s halfway to sleep.

 

He says to them: don’t leave me.

 

Seungyoon says to him:  _ don’t be stupid _ and Jiho says to him:  _ never _ .

 

\----

**Author's Note:**

> 1\. Fic got started because I was inspired by Beyonce's Sorry. Both lines are lyrics from the song, just tweaked to make it work for the fic.
> 
> 2\. I really love "Love, Simon" and this line is from the book/movie and when I heard it said in the movie I thought it was really beautiful. The author of the book is Becky Albertalli and all credit for the line goes to her. I just thought the line described Seungyoon perfectly so I incorporated it into my fic.


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